


The Proposal

by AndallitsGlory



Category: Midnighter (Comics), The Authority
Genre: DIRTY ALLEYWAY SEX, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Same-Sex Marriage, There's also sex if that interests you, Why wouldn't that interest you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:52:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndallitsGlory/pseuds/AndallitsGlory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not much of a proposal.</p><p>But it’s also everything Midnighter ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> This is for DC Marriage Week 2015. Maybe a little late, but I'm glad to revisit Apollo and Midnighter again. Technically within the continuity of the original Stormwatch/Authority comics, but completely comprehensible for anyone. Enjoy!

It’s not much of a proposal.

But it’s also everything Midnighter ever expected.

His heavy breathing filled the alley they ended up in, the funk of summer garbage swamping his nostrils with every inhale. The bodies of six thugs surround them like a half-formed prayer circle, limbs out of joint, shards of teeth littering the concrete. They had had enhancements—horns, scales, compressed noses, the whole nine yards—and in tow the same drug that had made them as ugly as they were. They had plotted to give it away on school playgrounds, the kind of thing he and Apollo were very much not fond of.

Despite their reptilian appearances, their blood had remained red. It splattered the same as it did too, decorating his and Apollo’s costumes, Apollo’s of course more starkly. The red made some kind of modern art on his white, sleek canvas with one large streak diagonal from his chest to his stomach. It dampened in his hair too, which hung down in thick strands like puppets lying limp in waiting for their master to take them up again. Maybe Midnighter was the master because they danced as his hand brushed by them to trace his thumb around Apollo’s mouth.

Apollo flashed his teeth. Not in the broad, beaming way from moments before, the kind that came out whenever he kicked some ass. Not in the slow, sultry way as he crawled toward Midnighter in the low light of their bedroom, his strong arms descending over Midnighter, trapping him in place. This smile was simply warm. A Sun God smile, marked by knowledge that they owned the world and that they would fix everything broken. 

“Marry me,” Apollo said. They had never discussed it before.

“Do I really look that sexy beating up dinosaurs?” Midnighter asked. He had long come to accept that they already were married, or at least similarly committed, without all the old taboos attached. You didn’t spend five years on the run with any man—never mind a man that looked like Apollo—with every minute by his side and not feel some sort of attachment. 

One of the thugs on the ground groaned. Apollo craned back his leg then drove his foot right into the thing’s skull. It crushed underneath his sole like a melon, staining the stocking with gore. He turned his attention back to Midnighter. “I’m serious.”

This gave him pause. But it didn’t slow down the Computer one bit, which continued to churn out analysis of Apollo’s facial features and body language, confirming his sincerity.

If Midnighter’s silence unnerved Apollo, his partner didn’t show it. Instead, his swooped down, cradling Midnighter’s face in his palms. A few more modicums of force, the Computer calculated, Midnighter’s jawbone would shatter. His teeth would join the thugs’ refugee bone shards on the asphalt. His skull would cave in. But no matter how much numbers the Computer crunched, he could no longer bring himself to even wince. Apollo had proven too many times before that he would never hurt Midnighter…unless he wanted it.

He looked up at the other man. “You want me to be your husband.”

Apollo’s lips pecked Midnighter’s cheek, then along his jawline. “Yes.”

“You want to be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Apollo’s hands propelled him backward. The brick wall of the nearest building bumped up hard against Midnighter’s trench coat. A hotter kiss landed, now on Midnighter’s throat. It washed throughout his entire body. He felt himself stiffen. “Do you need me to get on my knees to prove it?”

A hoarse laugh escaped from him. Apollo darted forward to fill the gap it had left, enveloping Midnighter with his mouth. His hand pulled Midnighter’s hood over his head and dropped it to the ground in one quick motion. “I did always like that part of the tradition.”

His pants come off as quickly as his hood, yanked down to his mid-thighs. Then Apollo’s hot tongue was there, trailing patterns on his skin, teasing his way up. Then Apollo’s hot palm was there, bringing his twitching prick to full mast. And then…andthenandthenandthen…

Midnighter had used to run with mortals, not Gods. Before Apollo, he had become accustomed to men looking up adoringly at him, worshipping him, amazed by him. And while he had enjoyed sex—quite a lot—with no other man had he writhed like this, shouted like this, begged. The words fell from his lips without control as Apollo smirked and hummed around his cock, as that heavenly heat embraced him, consumed him. 

He took a hold of Apollo’s hair down to the root and yanked upward. His cock slipped out of Apollo’s mouth and the Sun God slowly rose to his feet, sky blue eyes darkening. Midnighter’s two hearts beat together like war drums, pulsing blood throughout his extremities as he tilted his head up to watch the other man. He was getting it now.

Apollo dragged him further into the alley, where it was darker. Apollo’s halo illuminated his form as he unzipped his costume, but unless a passerby craned their neck with intent, no one would see them. So Midnighter had his own private show as the blood-stained, white cloth caressed Apollo’s biceps and his sharp hips on the way down before pooling at his feet. Then Apollo forced him to turn around against the wall, trapped him with his body, breathed deeply over the back of Midnighter’s neck as if inhaling a dizzying drug, then took him.

“Yes,” was the only word Midnighter could get out. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

And over his head rang out Apollo’s deep laugh. “I knew I could persuade you.”


End file.
